Postscripts
by keeptheotherone
Summary: Outtakes, excerpts, and drabbles from the worlds of "Faintest, Slimmest, Wildest Chance" and "In Love and War." Additional explorations of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and the Weasleys in the year after the Battle of Hogwarts.


A/N: An outtake from Chapter Twenty-Nine (use the spelled-out titles) of _In Love and War_ , in celebration of my seventh FF anniversary :)

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Bill lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling of his and Fleur's bedroom.

"When are you going to tell me what happened at Hogwarts on Saturday?"

"Hmm?" He turned his head to face her, but her features were blurred, only her silver-blonde hair visible in the summer twilight.

"You have been quiet ever since you came home from tutoring. It has been three days. What happened? Did you have an argument with Percy?"

Bill heaved a sigh. He hadn't fought with Percy this weekend, but George certainly had.

"No, nothing like that."

"What, then? I can see it is troubling your mind."

He shifted, turning on his side to face her directly. "I need to ask you something, and I want your honest opinion about it, even if you think it will upset me."

" _Mais oui_."

"McGonagall offered me a job. At Hogwarts. Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and …" He hesitated, knowing this was the most difficult part. "And Head of House."

Fleur was silent for a moment, then reached behind her, stretching out a pale arm to light the lamp on her side of the bed.

"What do you think?" she asked, studying his face.

"I want to know what _you_ think."

She didn't meet his eyes, fiddling with the lace edge of her pillowcase. "We would have to live at the castle?"

"Yes." Bill knew that was most likely a deal-breaker, but there was no way around it. Might as well get it out in the open.

She sighed. "I have never been as cold in my life as I was the year I lived at Hogwarts. The entire year," she emphasized.

"You lived in a carriage on the grounds without proper heat or clothing. We would be _in_ the castle, in teachers' quarters. A bedroom and small sitting room, each with a fireplace. And I would have an office to prepare lessons and meet with students."

"Is it not cold in the castle at night?" Fleur said, suspicious.

Bill leaned close, letting his hand wander in an attempt to find hers. "Have you ever been cold at night with me?"

She moved his hand from her breast to the mattress between them. "It is dark, and cold, and—how do you say, when it is windy inside?"

"Drafty."

"Yes. It is dark and cold and drafty, and the food! Bah," she said dismissively.

"It is exciting and adventurous and beautiful," he countered. "And Christmas at Hogwarts—" Immediately, he knew he'd made a tactical error.

"Christmas? At Hogwarts?"

Bill smoothed her hair back from her wide-eyed face. "I know you miss your family, but as Head of House, I would most likely have to stay. At least for part of the holiday, if not all of it."

Fleur considered this. "But I would not."

He opened his mouth to protest—Christmas, without his wife!—then thought better of it. "No. You could go to France for Christmas."

She reached out, tracing his collarbone with one finger. "Could I still work at Gringotts?" she said, looking up through her lashes.

Bill took her hand and laced his fingers between hers, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen slightly. If she was flirting, the odds were shifting in his favor.

"If you like."

"And you would be home every evening?"

"I'm sure some evenings I would have patrol or other duties, but yes." He kissed her palm. "I'll sleep with you every night."

"And the weekend? When there are no lessons?"

"Ours to do with as we please," he promised. "Except for Quidditch."

She dismissed this with a wrinkle of her nose and wriggled closer. "You want to accept this job? You want to be a teacher?"

Bill let go of her hand to put his arm around her back and close the remaining distance between them.

"Not forever, I don't think," he said slowly. "But this year … yeah. McGonagall—she was my Head of House, you know, as well as my Transfiguration professor—she really needs the help. If she's going to be Headmistress, she needs someone to take over Transfiguration and Gryffindor House, and she already has openings for Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently she's talked Slughorn into coming back as potions master and resuming his old Slytherin duties, but…."

"But what?"

"Somebody needs to be there who can help these kids," Bill said. "They lived with three Death Eaters for a year, Snape notwithstanding. I've seen dark magic, worked with it. I know its effects, I—I know how to help them, Fleur. I can help these kids with more than just test scores. I have the qualifications, I have the experience, the skills, and I want to help."

Fleur's arms tightened around him. "I know you do. You would be a wonderful teacher."

"I know it's a lot to ask of you, especially now, but—"

"You are needed now in a way you will not be next year, or the year after that."

He blew out a breath. "Yes. That's it exactly."

She gave a nod, her hair tickling his chin. "Very well. I will think about it. When do you need to give your answer?"

"Saturday would be ideal," he admitted. "I know it's not much time, but if I'm not going to do it, she needs to find someone who will."

"What about Ginny?" Fleur said.

His baby sister and her experience with the Chamber of Secrets had not been far from Bill's mind in days, but right now, with Fleur warm and soft in his arms…. He ignored the question in favor of tasting the skin just behind her ear.

"You would be her teacher, would you not?"

Bill let go and flopped on his back. He could not have a conversation about his sister and seduce his wife at the same time.

"So?"

"So … how will that change your relationship with her?"

"I don't know, maybe I'll finally fall off the pedestal. Why?"

"Because you," Fleur poked one sharp fingernail in his chest, "adore her and would be devastated if that actually happened."

"I would not!"

She gave him a knowing look. "You are still upset about the night they moved to Muriel's and she begged you to bring her here, even though you _know_ you had no choice but to leave her behind."

Bill pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to blot out the memory of his sister's face at his refusal. "I don't know, Fleur. Ginny is one person when there's nearly a thousand students at Hogwarts. That's a lot of people to say no to, and I don't think she would want me to. Besides," he added, the thought having just occurred to him, "McGonagall knows Ginny is my sister and a seventh year better than anybody. She's been teaching us for over fifteen years! She wouldn't have asked me if she thought it would be a problem."

"You have a great deal of respect for her," Fleur said softly.

He turned, surprised. "You don't?"

"She is an excellent teacher, but I did not have the opportunity to get to know her as you and your siblings appear to do."

"Ah, well, Head of House," Bill said, smiling. "It doesn't seem that different from you and Madame Maxime."

"Perhaps not," she agreed. "I know enough to know I would not want to cross her."

He laughed. "Quite."

She cuddled next to him again, the weight and warmth of her comforting.

"Fleur?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For not saying no straight away. Thank you for considering it."

"But of course," she murmured, mouth hovering over his, her fingers cool on the back of his neck. " _J'taime_."

" _J'taime_ ," he whispered, and kissed her back.


End file.
